Day 55: Birthday of a star (26/07/12)

We woke to another beautiful day. The park around us was serene and peaceful, the birds had brought in reinforcements to strengthen their song, the park management kept the tv and press journalists at bay. Yes, you have guessed it, it was Joke’s birthday. It was one of the many she has had since 1957, but I am not allowed to tell you how many.

We had breakfast in peace,

Joke getting breakfast in bed. I was not allowed to show her in bed, so this is a compromise.

followed by coffee in peace, punctuated by telephone calls from excited offspring.

Our setup in Mt Isa. Miners quarters behind.

Joke receiving calls from excited offspring!

Wherever you are, you see the big 270 metre mine chimney stack

Anyhow, you get the picture. The short and the long of it was that all that peace and tranquillity was a bit too much for Joke, so she proposed we go off somewhere. No sooner said than done, we drove off to Lake Moondarra, a dam built to supply Mt Isa (or its mines (or both)) with water. The surrounds of the lake have been extensively landscaped for recreational use, and it looks very very nice.

The birthday girl at the Moondarra Dam

The birthday girl spoiling for a fight??

The impressive banks of Lake Moondarra

The flowers were out for the birthday girl

On the way home we briefly revived the idea of finding another car. But when we got to the caryard we decided that the choice of colours was a bit limited, so we gave the idea away.

Mt Isa caryard on the Moondarra road.

So instead we went and washed the car.

Notice at the carwash. We did not fit into this category.

In the evening we went to the city lookout to watch the sunset

Sunset over Mount Isa

The colour keeps getting better...

...and the lights go on in the town. Note: the town, the lights never go out at the mine. Their lightbulb bill must be enormous!

and then to what is probably Mount Isa’s only restaurant that does not have a rodeo/cowboy/miner/redneck theme: Livingstone’s. The food was excellent and the sunset view was great. After thoroughly enjoying ourselves we went home to the caravan , well satisfied with the day’s events.

Deep sunset from our window seats at Livingstone's Restaurant

The birthday girl being wined and dined

Day 54: We ease into the Isa (25/07/12)

There was no need for an early start today, as we only had 60 kms to go into Mount Isa, where we were booked into the Sunset Caravan Park. We had selected that one carefully, avoiding the one which had been given a thumbs down by travellers we had met on the road. It would not do to arrive before kick-out time (10 a.m.) so we dawdled over breakfast, taking in the wonderful ambiance of this little slice of paradise.

Our breakfast spot looked every bit as good as it did last night!

Different light, different colours.

Some of the mountains around our little spot.

Mount Isa on the whole gets a bad write-up – and there is a bit of truth in the negative reports. It is a mining town which does not “do” nice very well. It is rough and ready and is dominated by the Mount Isa Mine which occupies at least half the town area. On the other hand, on this trip we have often met travellers whose capacity to enjoy what they see around them in nature or the works of man is severely limited. Mount Isa takes a bit of work, but the reward is a deeply interesting town which has enough in it to keep you going for a few days. We had booked for 3 nights as we had decided to take the X-Trail to a mechanic regarding the rumble under the bonnet at low revs. Another reason for staying put was that Mount Isa had been chosen to host the 55th birthday of my dear wife. Accordingly they had put flags and bunting up and down the main street and were ready to celebrate the day with a spontaneous rodeo and Miss Cowboy competition, the latter of which they had asked her to judge......

We spent the rest of the day preparing for this event by washing the caravan from top to bottom. Somehow it had become covered with red dust, and we were determined to bring it back to its original spotless condition. Spotlessness, of course, brings its own problems, one of which was that it highlighted the fact that our little caravan had suffered from what the Dutch call “stoneslag” where dents are caused by stones thrown up by passing vehicles. Presumably the Dutch think that those vehicles spit the stones at your vehicle, hence the name......

Exhausted, we sank into our camp chairs, reached weakly for a refreshing drink, dabbled crackers into dips with ineffectual, leaden arms, and contemplated our old age (whether arrived or impending shortly).

Day 53: From The Roadhouse to the Dam (24/07/12)

Another fine morning – brisk but not chilly. We had our breakfast and our showers. The caravan was still hitched, so the preparation for departure was minimal. (We still manage to be one of the last to leave, most days!!!) The road trains were going at it again, so when we left we took a breath, held it, closed our eyes and plunged into the traffic stream and hoped for the best.

Driver looking a bit worried, methinks....

Ahhhh! I understand!

Well the best came along, because we have not yet been overtaken by a road train – much worse than being passed by one on a single lane stretch. We drove the 180-odd kms into Cloncurry where we a) parked outside the police station, b) had lunch in the park next door, c) walked around the one-block CBD like tourists, d) did the grocery shopping (with list), e) tanked petrol and then wandered off in the direction of Mount Isa.

Cloncurry street

The Post Office Pub in Cloncurry

The Central Hotel in Cloncurry. These two pubs were the centre of town...

The idea was to go to a free camp about halfway between Cloncurry and Mt Isa which had a tick against it in the Camps 6 book.

The drive to Mt Isa was through the length of a mountain range. It had beautiful red rocks of a very rugged appearance and the drive was really very pleasant. Before we got to our intended stop, Joke pointed out an alternative free camp at a dam. This led to a difference of opinion between navigator and driver. 5 kilometres later we arrived at our intended stop to find it was packed out with caravans and the ubiquitous backpacker “bongo vans” (Bought cheap under the Sydney Harbour Bridge, driven to death around Australia by Germans, Swedes, French, Finns, pick a nationality, given a quick cannabis detail and then sold at a modest profit under the Sydney Harbour Bridge to the next lot of foreign backpackers – here endeth my interjectory rant)

We drove in one end and out the other, did a u-turn and high-tailed it back to the dam site, navigator graciously not saying “I told you so!”. We had to go in through a gate and along a kilometre of dirt road before we got to the “Clem Watson Park and Corella Dam” camp. What an absolutely great place! The 30 or so vans already present were spread out over an enormous area alongside the lake. I was enchanted, navigator graciously not saying “I told you so!”.

We found a spot which suited us and sat back to survey the lovely scene as the afternoon sun lost its bite and evening began to appear.

Our spot at the Corella Dam

Our view at the Corella Dam

Then we went for a walk along the shore of the lake (built for the Mary Kathleen uranium mine operation back in the 1950’s. The setting sun made the hills opposite burst into beautiful colour and I drank it in, navigator graciously not saying “I told you so!”.

The dam itself in the late afternoon

While we chatted with other campers, the sun was gradually withdrawing from the land

Until only the cloudlets reflected its rays

Finally, we only had the Southern Cross and its thousands of companions to give us light